LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 1 

At the appointed time, as mark of great favor Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren had sent his own personal carriage bearing the insignia of his office and complete with its impressive entourage to (transport) convey Fradel Rurik Korvald to his own residence where, as the quintessence of invitation had put it, a small gathering of a few intimate friends eagerly awaited the Illustrious Scholar’s distinguished presence.  More a command than an invitation, Fradel Rurik Korvald therefore acquiescing to this requisite social obligation, at noon had graciously entered the Prime Minister’s carriage. Close behind at a prescribed respectful distance had followed the minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr’s closed carriage.

Some time later both carriages had promptly arrived before the bronze gates of the Prime Minister's ostentatious mansion and no sooner they had cleared the gate, they had been greeted by the delighted Lamont Gudaren who had rushed out at once to personally welcome his honored guest Fradel Rurik Korvald. The Prime Minister then graciously and humbly assisted Fradel to alight from the carriage. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Fradel with the utmost deference, was escorted by Lamont Gudaren, up the stairs and then ushered into the PM’s stately residence.

01- RICH RESIDENCE  OF PM.JP 2

On the way to the main reception hall Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) with Lamont’s humble apologies, was discretely told, that Lamont’s niece and Emperor's chief consort Lady Sejon, one who had advocated for Fradel Rurik Korvald to be in Channing, having caught a slight chill the night before, would regrettably be absent from this small private gathering. There was one other, thankfully, who would not be there and that was the Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries.

When they finally entered the main vestibule, Fradel saw at once that he had been grossly misled, and that far from it being a small private affair, the atrium had been filled with (surfeit) plethora of eagerly awaiting prominent dignitaries. Fradel was first introduced (with much fanfare) to Lord Shouzi Yozdek, and then with abject apologies quickly whisked away and, in midst of the whirlwind of social protocol (etiquette), circulated to make acquaintances of all the key influential guests, ones that had showed up chiefly to curry Fradel's patronage and, as a bonus, also ingratiate themselves extra into the good graces of their patron P.M. Lamont Gudaren.

02- THE GUESTS AT THE PARTY JP 10

All this while Prime Minister Lamont had never ventured too far from Fradel's side and kept on smiling smugly as though Fradel Rurik Korvald was already his personal tyro (his client or protégé).

Fortunately for Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), he already possessed the required attributes (incredible patience, brilliant mind, wit, eloquent tongue, tenacity and skill) to pass as an illustrious scholar and to with ease, make a success of this most irksome (exasperating) situation: convincing and indubitably impressing (dazzling) even the most astute (most discriminating) elitists and  the not so secret affiliates of Egil Viggoaries,  who’d blatantly infiltrated the shindig with the sole purpose (objective) of gathering pertinent damaging  info on the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. After a prescribed respectful time, armed with their inequitable but nevertheless distressingly insipid reports, these brazen spies of the Dark Eunuch had all quietly departed (taken their leave early). The rest of the high society’s most influential and distinguished guests (comprised of, brilliant scholars, shrewd politicians and their wives, and the bold military personnel, not to mention other factions’ covert agents) clad in their gaudy, jewelled attires /garbs had unfortunately, incessantly, swirled around Fradel like erudite cyclone.

03- FRADEL AT THE PARTY

Despite his resilience and tenacity, as the time progressed Nevetsecnuac, had found this supposed academic repartee, a flamboyant display of sardonic (scathing) social banter and gluttony (all under the guise of entertainment), increasingly (disdainful) intolerable; more so, as there had been no end to the cornucopia of sporadic (intermittent) debauched and licentious pranks. To foster this outcome, the guests had all along been continually plied with potent and rare extravagant drinks by the circulating, scantily dressed, voluptuous female attendants; close behind them came the secondary group of pubescent male attendants, carrying trays heaped with various tantalizingly exotic morsels, to gratify even the most discriminating sensibility and tastebuds.

At the appropriate hour, a large bronze gong was struck with a mallet, whereupon the guests were then all shepherded into an elaborate, huge banquet hall.  The specifically (strategically) arranged seating, placed Fradel at hearing range between Lord Shouzi Yozdek on one side and Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren on the other. The rest of the afternoon and all through the feast (banquet), the burnished gold plates on the tables were continually piled high with every imaginable kind of bounty of gourmet dishes; additionally, gilded goblets (with embedded semi-precious gemstones) were kept perpetually filled to the brim with the finest, most fragrant alcoholic beverages. Countless servants bustled about in a silent, choreographed ballet, going back and forth, fulfilling every wish, whim, or outrageous desire of the guests.  The din of the pretentious chatter rising above the orchestrated lively music grated on Nevetsecnuac’s ears, as the ongoing entertainment with remarkable performances by colourful acrobats and dancers, all, served only to plunge him into a deeper state of dismay (heightened state of annoyance). Despite his outward (superficial) calm, his stomach had begun to churn, his livid state fueled by the incessant wagging tongues that vied in a whirlwind of deceit to win still more merit with Lamont Gudaren, himself, or some other official that they had spied from across the room. 

“This room is as empty of truth and propriety (morality) as it is full of avaricious people.” Nevetsecnuac, seated at the honoured position inwardly seethed. His patience wearing dangerously thin, he yearned to escape it all, if only for a brief spell.

A chance finally presented itself when Lamont Gudaren’s attention was drawn-away, by the eruption of a strong disagreement and an ensuing brief, heated (a violent) scuffle (almost a fray, exchange) between the two very inebriated dignitaries on the open verandah. As two of the quests hastened to pacify them, Nevetsecnuac seized this opportunity to ask his host's permission to be excused and, to visit the lavatory.

04-THE GUESTS IN DISPUTE AT THE VERANDA JP 12

After doing his business Nevetsecnuac was in no great hurry to get back and so for a spell he meditatively sat at the edge of the marble fountain; then desiring some more respite, he stood up and strayed off the general path to investigate less accessible sectors (regions) of the elaborate garden.  His lungs thanked him for the deep draughts he took of the refreshing air; meanwhile, light zephyrs (light winds) flavored with the scents of the exquisite flowers that adorned the grounds, sporadically wafted to tantalize his nostrils. Still reluctant to return, he strolled further in, delighting in the gentle breeze that caressed his red-hot cheeks, as he wandered aimlessly over-elaborate bridges and down the winding pathways that skirted miniature lakes ringed (encircled) with token forests.  Orchids decked out rocks and stumps with their delicate blossoms.  His heart and soul gradually lightened as their natural beauty in this tranquil setting lifted the onerous burden of socialization from his shoulders.  Without realizing it, his meanderings had taken him quite ways off (far away) from the banquet hall and, so as not to get too far lost, he was about to retrace his steps back when, hushed voices just then drew his attention to a distant spot beyond the pavilion, to an almost hidden sector,  that was nestled by the carefully manicured tall hedges of juniper and atypical (rare type) trees.

 

05- BEAUTIFUL GARDENS  AT PM'S RICH RESIDENCE JP 7 2

He stood rooted to the spot, fighting the urge to investigate the source of these urgent sounding whispers when, unexpectedly two figures immersed in a serious exchange, suddenly materialized (emerged, became visible) from the shadows of the dense tree- foliage (greenery).

Nevetsecnuac recognized one of them at once as being Zaur Stugr.  “What? Here too?” he frowned. “Would he never cease, not even for a bout, with his incessant plotting? It is tiresome enough deducing the scope of his machinations?” Before Nevetsecnuac could retreat however, Zaur's keen eyes had detected his presence and, quickly masking his momentary annoyed surprise, Zaur grinned and rushed over with his right arm extended, his companion close at his heels, to greet Fradel Rurik Korvald. 

Halting in close-proximity, Zaur Stugr nodded in polite salutation then proceeded to introduce the apparent latecomer to the banquet, as an old, distinguished friend, the esteemed Undersecretary Lenny Sukzor.

The name struck Nevetsecnuac like a thunderbolt; hence, he tersely looked down to conceal his inner shock, before he extended his customary greeting to Lenny.

Nevetsecnuac’s mind, meanwhile, had reeled (whirled) with uneasy questions: What is this… is he the same Lenny Sukzor, a certain affiliate of The Black Molochs?  The same Lenny Sukzor whose name Commander Zhadol had let slip to, Lieutenant Yennic, back at Cyprecox Pass!

Unfortunately, once more, Zaur's trustworthiness had again, come into question. What schemes were being hatched here?  How can Zaur Stugr fit in, with this known ally of Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries, the most powerful Eunuch in Wenjenkun and an ardent nemesis of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren? Furthermore, had Zaur just then introduce him as an old, close friend? Conspiracy heaped on collusion, is there no end to this official's vices?

Nevetsecnuac's heart was gripped with foreboding as he remembered how, in all innocence; he had rendered the mysterious key to this now passionately believed, duplicitous (hypocritical) minister. Could this portend future trouble/ hindrance (impediment) for him? No! Nevetsecnuac quickly dismissed that notion; Zaur Stugr had no reason to doubt the story he had given him, though just as well, that he'd altered the truth in part. 

Under the pretense of outwardly congenial chatter Nevetsecnuac scrutinized Zaur more keenly out of the corner of his eye. Imagine consorting so brazenly with the enemy, both invited guests in the home of their presumed ardent foe… hmm? Nevetsecnuac could not help but marvel at such audacity, the cunning complexity beneath the affable exterior.

 No, that was not it at all. Just then another notion quickly manifested in his mind. From everything he had seen and understood, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren was far too shrewd to be, misinformed or be careless, and his security was too pervasive, especially here. With all the hidden spies about it was inconceivable that this meeting could transpire without the Prime Minister's knowledge and acquiescence. More likely Zaur Stugr was conducting (acting in accordance with) his superior's instructions. If so, what diabolical scheme was being- hatched here? What odious intrigue was in the works? Nevetsecnuac again inwardly queried, perplexed with this subtle web of alliances and treachery that were perpetually being spun, under the guise of norm, within the walls of the Imperial Capital Channing.  Since his arrival in Capital city, he had noted partly in dismay, that nothing, no one could be (relied upon) counted on to be what they seemed at face value.  In this diabolically superficial world even nature itself was, molded and manipulated, into a totally controlled representation of, someone's imaginings (dreams) and whims.

06- LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

Covertly sizing up Lenny Sukzor, Nevetsecnuac found it hard to believe that this strikingly handsome young minister with his distinguished bearing and fine manners was anything other than what he appeared to be: sincere, upstanding, likable, and eloquently articulate being.  Indeed, this amiable mask he wore could dupe even the worldliest, cunning, and calculating official (bureaucrat, administrator).

Nevetsecnuac reflected again on the fact that Zaur had introduced Lenny Sukzor as an old, close friend. Even one as discerning as Minister Zaur, not being immune to Lenny’s charms, could be, beguiled. Was it conceivable that Zaur was unaware of Lenny Sukzor’s complicity with Eunuch Egil Viggoaries? If so, he could be in grave danger. He may be passing on information to the other side, and with the Prime Minister's blessing, no less.

His quandary, however, was short lived. “No, if I believed that, I'd have to have been born yesterday.” Nevetsecnuac shrugged it off. As it were all this array of intrigues, albeit an entertaining diversion, had kept his mind bit off course from the main objective.

Tad ashamed, Nevetsecnuac presently directed his full attention on the undeniable fact that from the very moment he’d arrived at the Imperial city all the culmination of what he’d seen and heard had determined that the invincible, solid defensives and indomitable sentinels shielding the core, more specifically the Imperial Palace in Channing, were quite impenetrable.  Additionally, the multitude of spies and the dire vigilance of the Black Band Guard Regiment, which was Zakhertan Yozdek’s private invincible militia guarding him, had left Nevetsecnuac with but one option: to persevere in this odious disguise until the appointed date of summons.

Nevetsecnuac till then would continue to maintain his aloof (standoffish) disposition, patiently tolerating these upper crusts’ (polite society’s) machinations till it was time for him to strike. This afternoon being, already lost, he forwent any further speculation about Zaur or Lenny’s motives and instead, allowed himself one last (heedless) bit of fun for the reminder of the day. Subsequently, he turned his undivided attention back on the ongoing outwardly cordial, amusing, yet highly exuberant altercation between the two brilliant minds (officials).

Both arguments were properly marshaled, yet Nevetsecnuac was quick to discern (discerned) beneath the lucid, academic exchange the subtle riddles, plays on words, the underlying assertions that underpinned a benign discussion. He could not help but be increasingly impressed by Lenny Sukzor’s ready repartee, his eloquence (of tongue) and the complexity of meanings in the brilliant profusion of his images.  The views themselves were most profound and his judgments so very sound. With his ready command of puns and colloquialisms he was a good match for Zaur Stugr. For the most part Lenny Sukzor would appear most tractable to the points Zaur had put forth then, at an unexpected turn he would, with uncanny precision and skill, insert his own cunning, complexities backed by appropriate quotations to bring the subject over to his own point of view and cast serious doubt over the shambles of Zaur's arguments he had left behind.

Minister Zaur Stugr was no less talented.  A sure virtuoso, his eyes sparkling with mischief, he retaliated in the same good humor with impressive, lucid arguments that oscillated between the two extremes, dazzling Lenny with no less pointed, skewed logic. The irrefutable theories, wrapped in brilliant metaphor sometimes forced Lenny Sukzor to concede and retract what they both knew to be the truth. Then with mutual admiration they exchanged ciphers, whose meanings were different than those outwardly expressed yet, the connotations of it, was clear to both Lenny and Zaur.

07- SPARRING WITH IDEAS AND NOTIONS

The precipitously exchanged wittingly cryptic (ambiguous) words, with slyly ingenious connotations (undertones) beneath it, which Zaur and Lenny had incessantly volleyed (lobbed) between them, would have baffled anyone, save for Nevetsecnuac, who was equally adept (proficient) at, analytical, abstract (conceptual) geneses and their sort of odd logic. In fact, he interjected with articulate subtlety from time to time to manoeuvre the discourse onto an alternate path neither one of them were prepared to take. Unwittingly steered onto this atypical theme (topic) and swept along by its momentum, they had then animatedly discussed its ramifications, under the orchestration of the new games master, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac). Engaged thus, the trio had gradually advanced through the unfrequented garden paths to eventually rejoin the general area of the bash (party, shindig).

Nevetsecnuac had estimated (assessed) that Lenny Sukzor, having gone to this length to ingratiate himself with Zaur Stugr and Lamont Gudaren, would have stayed on for the duration of the banquet and filled his arsenal with the tidbits dropped by the Prime Minister's increasingly inebriated clientele. Even these snippets could have proved effective if Lenny had the aim of fomenting trouble in the opposing camp. Therefore, Nevetsecnuac was surprised when, shortly after their return, Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor had discretely asked the Prime Minister's leave (excused) from the party, claiming another, very pressing engagement which, to his deep regret, he could not get out of (away from).

Also of interest was that Lamont Gudaren only put up a token show of displeasure as he acceded to the request. As Lenny Sukzor discreetly slipped away during a distraction provided by a brilliant gymnast, Nevetsecnuac was shocked (struck), by the tacit smile exchanged behind his back by the Prime Minister and Zaur Stugr.

“It’s all a chess game with them!”  He scoffed. Clearly there were no real victims here, only adroit players, each quite adept at strategic manoeuvring of pieces into posts, all the while tugging on the strings of deception and laying invisible traps, to hasten the astonishing yet feral conclusion.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

                                                                                              ~ 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 32

 

 With nothing else left to do, Tizan donned (wore, put on) Captain Duko's attire over the light armor he kept on underneath to protect him from arrows then, as ordered, went back below decks to retrieve (fetch) Disaidun Agripe.

This time quite unexpectedly, Disaidun’s spineless husband, having mustered all his courage, charged at Tizan just as they were headed out the door. 

 

01- CEROS AGRIPE STRIKES BACK

Though Ceroz Agripe was half-crazed, filled with remorse and rage, he was still no match for the Lieutenant of Imperial guards and so, with just one blow from the back of his fist, hardly any effort at all on Tizan's part, Ceroz was hurled right across the room, bloodied and almost cataleptic (almost out cold), to crash onto the floor of the cabin.

 "You dare oppose me, wretch!" Tizan’s rage not assuaged, growling he went over to deliver a couple of vicious kicks to the Ceroz's side; the force of the second kick was such, it lifted the massive body up and slammed (smashed, crashed) it against the far wall of the cabin.

 

02- CEROS AGRIPE KICKED TO FAR END

 Tizan turned his fiery gaze back to the woman Disaidun Agripe and bellowed.  "What have you done to him to bring him to such a state?"

Not condescending to answer, Disaidun Agripe simply shrugged and walked on ahead.

“Quite the vixen, aren't you?” Tizan smirked as he locked and barred the door behind them.  In truth he liked a woman with such spunk but, since Captain Zunrogo had taken special interest in her, she was off-limits to him.  Such was the rule he had always lived by and continued to follow. 

Grabbing Disaidun Agripe’s arm forcefully next, and ignoring her volley of threats, he lugged (toted) her to the barricade.  "This is your post.  The captain forbids you to stray an inch from this point…  Understand?"  Only then Tizan let go of her arm. He was inwardly thrilled at her repressed seething contempt for him, and could not help but provoke her further, "We have only a few hours now before the fog lifts.  If you want to pray for your salvation, go ahead; now may be your only chance."  He smirked.

 

Her retort froze on her lips when her eye just then caught the exceptionally crafted crossbow leaning in the far corner.  Walking over, Disaidun Agripe picked it up, examined it carefully and said, “Where did you find this?  It’s magnificent."

Then, she sedately withdrew an arrow from its quiver.

 

“Show off, as if you can discern a good weapon from a bad one.  Some maven (expert, professional, doyen) you are.” He’d inwardly scoffed, fixing his cold gaze at her; Tzan once more could not resist goading (inciting) her, "You do know how to use it, I trust?".

 

Disaidun Agripe did not answer him but, instead, loaded the arrow in the blink of an eye then aimed it directly at Tizan's heart and asked. “Do you want a demonstration?"

This was too much!  Throwing his head back and trusting his hidden armor, Tizan laughed heartily, "Go ahead, I dare you to."

 

03-TZAN JP

Just then Zunrogo appeared on the scene, his stern looks at once sending Tizan without another word, scurrying off to above deck, to take up his assigned post.

Disaidun Agripe’s (Jepipi's) alluring approach was met with the same icy rebuke.

Not taking it to heart, she behaved as if he bade her, sizing up Zunrogo from the corner of her eye and admiring his heroic countenance.

 

“By the Gods, he is magnificent! “Gearing up for this single, bitter battle, she was positive he would triumph over any foe, however invincible, before the end of the day.

                                                                                         ~

 

For seemingly endless hours now, Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi) had fidgeted at her post.  These times preceding an engagement (battle) had always seemed to drag on forever; furthermore, the angry rants and ravings of her half-crazed husband Ceroz, only two doors down aggravated her soul and ignited her ire, making things far worse.

“Oh, why won't he shut up?” Disaidun Agripe groaned, for her conscience bothered her a little now; after all, it was she who had brought him to this state.

“But it was necessary,” she told herself to ease the guilt.  “I had to do what I did to survive.  Why couldn't he be a bit more like his half-brother?  Insipid fool brought this misfortune down upon himself because he's less of a man, he’s so weak! “Her face contorted in disgust.

 

                                                                             ~

 

Yesterday, upon her return from her blissful experience with Zunrogo, she had hesitated for a few moments outside the cabin door, just long enough to dishevel her hair, loosen her belt, scratch her shoulders, and rip her bodice slightly, altering her appearance and assuming a tragic countenance.

 Let inside and, finally free (away) from Tizan's prying eyes, Disaidun had then given an incredible performance of a woman who had been both physically and mentally abused.

 

Ceroz Agripe already looked haggard, his face unusually gaunt and pale, and his eyes sunken and bloodshot.  It tore at his heart and ripped his bowels to shreds, nearly driving him to the brink of insanity to hear Disaidun’s embellished accounts of the shameful mauling (pawing, battering) that she had supposedly endured at the hands of that vile, lecherous old official, Luvet. That’s right; not Zunrogo but Luvet, her husband was led to believe, was the supposed sole perpetrator of this grievous sexual assault on his beloved wife Disaidun.

 

04- LUVET

Luvet’d spared her face but not her body, under her garments, she’d claimed, was all black and blue as testament of his ill treatment. She had brazenly offered to show it to him but Ceroz, the fool, trusting in her implicitly, simply taken her at her word.

Ceroz Agripe was further led to believe that, behind Luvet's seemingly benign, quiet disposition lay a calculating, sinister, greedy, licentious, and vindictive villain who had, from the moment he’d laid eyes on Disaidun, lusted after her and from then on shamelessly had striven (endeavored) to possess her.

The convincing story Disaidun fed her husband was wretched enough in itself but her quiet tears, her unspoken insinuations just compounded Ceroz’s already intolerable existence, his unbearable misery. Highly incensed, Ceroz Agripe’d gnashed his teeth, shaken his fist in the air and vowed to exact vengeance on that dog's spawn. 

“He'd make him pay dearly for his vile deeds, enlist the help of his half-brother, Zohuj Kez and his influential friends, if needs be.”

"And how do you propose to survive this present danger?  You know you're powerless to stop him or them."  Disaidun had rebuked him, then relayed to him the information she’d overheard, when they thought she’d passed out, in Luvet’s cabin.

Luvet the mastermind, Ceroz Agripe came to believe, had conspired from the start with Captain Doku, the two assassins, the Imperial guard Tizan and Captain Zunrogo, and the seemingly upright scholar, to intercept in mid-stream a tribute vessel bound for the Capital with its cargo of gold bullion.

The details of this grand larceny had been worked out months in advance, down to the minutest point and, the specific measures needed for smooth transition and the eventual execution, now had been finalized.  Many more were involved in a scheme of this magnitude, including some subversives planted on the targeted vessel. The few expendable passengers/witnesses, like them, were all imprisoned in their cabins, to be dealt with later; their predictable demise, however, would eliminate (eradicate) any possibility of trouble later-on.

Then she reminded her husband how she had wanted to disembark along with the other, lucky passengers when the opportunity had availed itself, when there was still time.

She blamed him, on his short-sightedness, his eagerness to reach his new post, and consequently, for this terrible predicament.

Her ill luck had also been the contributor. She then softening, had exclaimed, looking as though she desperately sought to exonerate at least in part, his guilt, which further endeared her to him, “How wonderful she was; how so very naïve to believe in nonsensical superstition.” Fool that he was, she could read him like a book.

 

05-CEROS AND DISAIDUN AGRIPE

 “Oh, darling husband, what can we do, what can you do to save me?” Once more she had wept unconsolably, heart wrenchingly.  After which, when she, feeling terribly parched, dried her eyes, and asked her husband to fetch her some water from the jug.

Her husband eager to please and to console her had rushed to do her bidding.

 It was at that point in time, when she looking even more dismal (gloomy), robbed him of least hope, by telling him that before she was sent back, she had been told, but was afraid to tell him till then, how the villain Luvet intended to murder Ceroz and the baby and if she did not agree to be his concubine in future, he threatened to sell her into slavery (bondage).

As for the reasons why, she had been sent back, it was simply to allow her to say her final farewells, while they finalized their plan and corrected prior overlooked areas of incongruity (conflict ).

"Oh, dear husband our bliss has been so cruelly cut short; as doomed individuals we are, robbed of ecstasy of growing old together. You’ll never see your son grow up. He’ll never grow up! “Disaidun Agripe had looked at him with hurtful, resigned eyes then burst into loud sobs to once more, wrench his heart.

She’d watched (seen) from the corner of her eye how self-loathing and reproach gnawed at his entrails, how flustered, how sickened at heart he’d suddenly felt, in his dire predicament.

For a brief second, seeing how she had broken him with her words, she had felt the stirring of remorse tugging at her conscience; but she had already resolved in Zunrogo's cabin to carry this ploy through to the bitter end.

"Don't worry, husband," her heart again hardened, she had seized this opportunity to add salt to his open wounds.

 "I will not blame you for what will happen to me in future. As I said earlier, I was born under an unlucky star; it has been my curse my entire life.  I don't see why it should change now.  I'm grateful for this one brief period of happiness you have given me.  It will be one fond memory I will carry with me to my grave."

Then once again Disaidun Agripe had recounted in detail, the shameful episodes with Luvet; at the end of which, she’d thrown herself at her husband’s feet, imploring him to have mercy and, by killing her right there and then, put an end to her torment.

 Of course, Disaidun knew Ceroz was totally incapable of such an act.  It was just one more pummel of guilt, another whack of disgrace, all, fostering chagrin, to further constrict the loop (strap, noose, snare, rope) around her husband’s neck, to sap his honor, his manhood and ultimately, push him over the edge.

Egged on by her pleading the fool had tried, given it his best shot too; to predictably in the end, when, she had started to turn ashen, when her eyes had bulged out only a little and, she had started to emit slight gurgling sounds, he had suddenly broken off his grip on her neck and then, with a horrified look on his face, fallen back.

"I can't go through with it! I'm no murderer." He’d cried out.

 “What did I almost do?” Traumatized Ceroz Agripe had glared hatefully at those still partially clenched, despicable hands that had almost taken the life of his beloved wife.

He had next, burying his face and fallen on his knees, had sobbed hysterically, uncontrollably, like a child.

 

06- DISRAUGHT CEROS AGRIPE

Disaidun Agripe, her senses restored to norm, though inwardly sullen, going over, had murmured her encouragement. "It’s all right, dear.  You did nothing wrong. I asked you to; I made you do it. You are not to be blamed. You are a good man; you always were.  We’ll be all right."  She'd then sobbed inconsolably as she cradled him and rocked his head soothingly in her arms.  "Please don't cry.”

 Drying her tears, she’d then to further shame him, promised resolutely, “You need not try, dear; I’ll find the strength somehow for us both and, avenge this wrong. This time I'll find it in myself too..."  She did not have to complete her sentence, for he had understood (grasped) her meaning. 

Disaidun would rather end her own life by throwing herself into the cold river and perishing in the watery grave, than suffer further shame. 

Her strong determination only belittled him further, robbing what little bit of humanity was left within him.  He felt smaller than a maggot, slime, a piece of offal.

 

 

                                                                              ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 32)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 24

“He is a shrewd villain; if he had witnessed the whole thing, what sinister reason did have in falsifying, his report to the captain?" Briac interjected, nonplused, as he cupped his chin in his hand and wondered out loud.

"And in such a way that, in the end, he came out of it totally blameless himself," Frastos added wryly. “Furthermore, imagine the captain, chalking his report up to a misinterpretation of obvious signs… Misinterpretation my pew!  It was unadulterated malice, nothing less.” Frastos shook his head; then with fresh concern, knit his brows.

01- FRASTOS - JP 05

“But what persuaded, our most discerning captain, to readily accept Tizan’s incongruous (absurd) version?  So long as I've known him, Zunrogo’s always been a stickler for exactitude in reports; this is quite uncharacteristic of him.  Why would he…"

"Don't you get it?”  Briac interrupted disdainfully.  "The captain is much shrewder than Tizan, and the Lieutenant is, far too cunning to try deceiving Zunrogo.  If you ask me, this slander was a slip-up, an act of desperation."

"What desperation?"

Briac ignored the question.  "Yes, it shows that Tizan's weakening, running out of time and patience, hard pressed as he is, to discredit me in Captain's eye.  No, you're not the one who is being targeted here, not really.  I know for certain now that he's planning to harm me yes, but more importantly, and during this assignment, he aims (intends) to permanently replace me."

"What?"  Frastos looked up sharply.  "How on earth could you, from this, deduce that?"

"You see," Briac smiled tightly, "there's a lot more involved here than you can imagine. He means to do away with me, all right.  He's made a go at it once before, and I don't mean this wig, or this getup."  Meeting Frastos' baffled gaze, he grimaced sourly and dismissed it with a wave of his hand, "Never mind.  It will take too long to explain (tell).”

“As for your unpleasant experience of this morning, I suspect his motive was to make you squirm for the sake of pure amusement.  You see, his cruel nature craves, demands it every now and then.  He thrives on others' humiliation and misery, even if they did nothing to incur his animosity."

Briac continued with a dull voice, "I'm certain the Cheron incident played no part in this, for if it had, you would have had a taste of his real malice (wickedness) long before this day.  You know that patience is not one of his winning qualities.  The Cheron incident happened quite some time ago, two and a half months have passed, I believe.  Still, be warned just the same and watch your back from now on for, once Tizan turns on you, regardless of the reason, your life may well be forfeit."

After some pause for thought, Briac continued, "However, I think I can make a safe guess as to the reason for his recent animosity towards you since, through no fault of my own I, too, have incurred that animosity.  Ambitious as he is, he seeks to inveigle himself significantly more into the captain's good graces and confidence, with my ignominy and trashing my long-term loyal service. “

“Since I've been most careful so far to give him no leeway, his subtle campaign of psychological warfare has been kept in check, though not rendered ineffective.  I'm not as crude or simple minded as I may seem at the outset. “Briac looked intently at Frastos.

“That's a protective facade I find most useful in fending off aggression."  He then grimaced magnanimously, "I'm being frank with you now because I'm sympathetic towards you and I trust you implicitly.  You are a forthright fellow with a no-nonsense attitude, characteristics that I very much admire in a man."

"I guess I'm as guilty as the rest, for underestimating you." Frastos apologized.

"I sure was taken in by your pretense.  In fact, your discerning thoughts are exceedingly deep."

“And shrewd and calculating.” he wanted to add but proposed instead, "I hope you overlook my past offenses and will consider me as your good and loyal friend."

"I always have." Briac smiled.  "I judge a man by what is in his heart.  There is no need to apologize.  However, putting all this aside, I'd like to caution you to be wary.  You see, you've been with me a lot lately and your attempts to shield me from injustice have, no doubt, confirmed Tizan's suspicions that we are in cahoots, to say the least, and are plotting his denigration.  That is why he acted first to emasculate us.  That way, when he accuses us sometime in the future of some grievous, phantom crime, our attempts to exonerate ourselves will avail us nothing.”

“Do not underestimate the danger you are in.” Briac added gravely and nodded. “That would be the worst mistake you could make.  And don't think that he can be dealt with easily, for I've witnessed countless others who have tried to undermine him only to perish as easily as if he had swatted a fly.”

“I can't stress this point enough.  That is why, for the time being, I'm advocating patience.” Briac, for a time, lowered his head in weighty (reflective) silence.

"I suppose he forced every detail of the truth out of you?"  Receiving a nod from Frastos, Briac continued, "Then he had this fun at our expense."

Disdain tinged Briac’ voice: “That should satiate him for the time being, until he craves for more."

Seeing the anger building up anew in Frastos, Briac consoled him, "Oh, don't blame yourself.  Believe me, there's very little else you could have done.  I know full well how persuasive he can be.  He has few equals in that respect.  Concentrate now on sweet revenge, on devising a strategy to curb or eliminate his next cruel ploy (devilish scheme) before it renders irreversible damage. I can't help feeling responsible, however, that I've somewhat inadvertently dragged you into this peril.  I should have exercised more discretion and never asked you to make that promise to me."

“What promise?” Frastos looked up, astonished, but on second thought decided to say, to deny nothing.

 “Let him go on believing what he must; he's partially right, therefore, we should work in unison to alleviate this dangerous circumstance (fix, situation).  Besides, he's been at this a lot longer than I have and I should utilize his knowledge and resources.  Who knows, he may have some plausible recourse up his sleeve that will turn out to be beneficial.  All that matters is, the end-result and I don't care who I must team up with to achieve it.

 "I'm afraid you're next." Frastos fixed his eyes on Briac and ended the prolonged silence.  "Any minute now the captain will be sending for you.  He was a bit displeased with your indiscretions anyhow and now he's been fueled up to reprimand you.  I suspect he'll chastise you well and good and then order you to behave from now on with the decorum befitting the illustrious scholar, Fradel Rurik Korvald.  But that's the least of your worries.  Eh?"

Briac nodded, "Yeah, the least of my worries."

                                                                              ~

After this episode Briac trusted Frastos more and more until Frastos had won Briac's complete confidence.  This led them to become bosom buddies, whereupon Briac began confessing to Frastos his innermost secrets bit by bit every night until there was nothing left unsaid.  Recruited into Briac's cause, Frastos schemed with him by lamplight on, how best to contact the agents of His Excellency Egil Viggoaries once they'd reached Jukurok.

Since several checkpoints, in effect strongholds, lay ahead, Fradel Rurik Korvald's papers, along with the others', were entrusted to the captain for safekeeping. After passing the last checkpoint at Zakoz they had already gone on some measure when four or five guards had emerged from the gate to race after them at top speed.

"I wonder what this is all about." Tizan grumbled as he looked back at them.

"It should be obvious."  Zunrogo grimaced wryly and ordered the group to a halt.

Meeting up with them, the Lieutenant from the checkpoint dismounted and, prostrating himself, greeted the captain.

02- GURARD

Kneeling on one knee, he then greeted Briac, believing him to be Fradel Rurik Korvald, and delivered his message directly to him. "Our Garrison Commander Taicor apologizes profusely for having missed your illustrious visit and respectfully invites Fradel Rurik Korvald and the Captain of his party to be his honored guests at a feast.  If the honored sirs will deign to come with me, I will escort you back to Commander Taicor's private offices and offer you all the hospitality that is at his disposal."

Briac froze in his saddle, not knowing how to respond.

"Please convey my sincerest apologies to Garrison Commander Taicor." Zunrogo rode forward to reply.  "We are pressed for time and Fradel Rurik Korvald regretfully declines his gracious offer."

"Sir," the Lieutenant looked up, flustered, to address the captain, "The Commander will be very displeased with me.  Can I not, in any way, persuade you to…?"

Zunrogo's stern look cut him off short, "I'm afraid that it’s totally out of the question, Lieutenant.  We cannot make allowances in the least.  I'm sure that Commander Taicor will not wish to incur a delay in the illustrious Fradel Rurik Korvald's adherence to the summons from His Royal Highness."

"May I offer a thousand apologies for my oversight; Captain."  The Lieutenant bowed his head (in resignation).

"However, you may relay to the Commander that Fradel Rurik Korvald will be more able to oblige him on his return trip, when there will be no pressing engagements."  Zunrogo Tugo's tone was softer and more amiable and the Lieutenant, satisfied at having at least some good news to relay, wished them a safe journey on behalf of his Commander, mounted his horse and rode back to the checkpoint.

Briac, watching the men raising a cloud of dust in their wake, was relieved and, in part, disappointed.

Later, the Captain took some time to explain his reasoning to the real scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald, "I declined that offer on your behalf, sir, for good reason.  That Garrison Commander, Taicor, is well known to be a grasping opportunist and not at all trustworthy; I advise you to avoid him on your return journey as well."

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) thanked the captain graciously for his protection and sound advice.

Briac, witnessing this uncharacteristically polite exchange by the captain, twisted his mouth and looked away in disdain. “As if he'd be in any danger!” he huffed.

 “It’s my neck that's on the line, not his. But the Captain Zunrogo doesn't seem to have any confidence in my ability, to pull it off; as if it takes any special talent to be him.”  He stole a scornful look at Fradel Rurik Korvald.

 “He's only an overrated scholar.  Anyone can recite some lines and look arrogant.  But was that a deliberate mistake (I saw the captain make,) the captain made at that last checkpoint, when he’d introduced Fradel Rurik Korvald as Frastos and Frastos as me?”

“Ah, Briac, you're being far too paranoid; after all, we were in a rush.”  Briac dismissed the thought and spurred his horse forward to align himself with Frastos where he could spend his time gossiping and complaining to a sympathetic ear.

                                                                             ~

"This may be our only opportunity."  Frastos had anxiously sought out Briac everywhere throughout the Inn to tell him, "I've just come from the captain.  Tizan has been dispatched on an errand, probably to book our passage on a riverboat.  Because he insists on departing early tomorrow morning, the captain has taken the scholar to show him some beauty spots Jukurok harbor is famous for.  They won't be back for hours."

"Right, this is it." Briac concurred, springing to his feet.  "We've been waiting for this chance all along.  Maybe you should stay back, though, in case they return earlier than expected and you can cover up for me."

"Nothing doing, I’m coming with you.  If we are together, I can't be accused of disobeying orders.  Even if they come back prematurely, we could certainly offer some reasonable excuse for our absence from this Inn.  Besides," Frastos smiled mischievously, "you may need my assistance should you be assailed (attacked) by beautiful women again on the way."

"You are right of course brother, but I can hardly go out like this, not in this garb.  Disguised as him, I'll be risking danger at every turn.  We need to first…”

"I'm way ahead of you, brother." Frastos held up his hand, smugly interrupting him.

 "It’s all been taken care of and, there's a bundle of apparel (clothes) in our room already for you to change into.  I'm afraid there was nothing much we can do about the wig, except hide it under the broad brimmed hat I also procured for you."  Frastos winked and smiled.

 

"It seems you've thought of everything.  You are truly an indispensable ally.  I'm indebted to you, brother." Briac thanked Frastos as he headed hastily back to the room.

"We'll sneak out the back way to avoid any curiosity." Frastos coolly suggested after cautiously closing the door behind them.

"Now, hurry up and change."

As Briac complied he asked nonchalantly, "Do you still remember the password? Oops!"  Briac'd inadvertently let out another secret.

"Of course, who could forget?  'Plum blossoms adorn the beauty passing under them.'” Frastos coolly answered. 

“I must have accidentally disclosed (blabbed) it, last time I was totally (intoxicated) inebriated. Oh well, he would have eventually heard of it anyway.”  Briac shrugged his shoulders and, wiping the worry lines from his face, smiled sheepishly at Frastos.

Originally Briac had intended on leaving Frastos outside the temple gates to keep watch since there was no need yet for him to be privy to everything.

“Frasto’s integration into the Do-ki spy network should be gradual.” Briac’d told himself.  In truth his caution had stemmed from pure greed and, in his reluctance to share the anticipated reward money.

Frastos, when he had been informed of this plan, had pretended not to notice this blatant insult to his character.  “So, he still distrusts me after all the great lengths I've gone to cover for him.  You would leave me out in the cold, wouldn't you?  No doubt you'd also discard me the minute I've outlived my usefulness.  Your loyalty is only to gold, and you can drown in it for all I care.”

03-FRASTOS - JP 19

"Right, well, aren't you finished yet?"  Suppressing his inner animosity, Frastos nervously paced the floor.

"Almost,” Briac finished tying on the belt.

"Well, how do I look?"  He spread his hands and twirled like a bridegroom in his finery.

"Like a beauty who's about to pass under some plum blossoms." Frastos grimaced wryly.

"Yeah, right; and are you, my beloved?" Briac responded in cold sarcasm.

"Touché.", Frastos relented.

 As they were passing through the door, Frastos turned to ask, “Why plum blossoms?"

"Imagine if you will this incredible, exhilarating scene in historical era: A time before the most crucial (decisive) battle, the legendary divisions (regiments) getting ready for the surprise vanguard attack.  It’s springtime and the crisp, morning air is rocked by the thundering drums, the stamping of the horse's hooves and the marching feet, as they all prepare for the most dangerous undertaking.  Subsequently, as they march through the gate, they pass under the canopy of plum blossoms, the tall, ancient trees lining the road, fully bedecked as they are with these fragrant pristine white blooms…. The vibrations of their progression, begetting torrents of blossoms, the same blossoms that adorn the Heavenly courtyard, begin to rain down upon them like tears.  Lingering at the gate are their loved ones, (old man, women and children, beautiful young girls) all, looking longingly with dismay after them, their painful hearts not noticing how they, too, are being bedecked by these same blossoms."

"I think that playing the scholar, Fradel Rurik Korvald, has finally gone to your head; it has turned you into a hopelessly romantic’ lyricist." Frastos with a wide grin, teased Briac.

Then looking away, he disdainfully (derisively) grunted, "It’s more likely that they selected that comparison line because every temple in these parts has planted plum trees in their courtyard and one can use that analogy to make the contact without arousing any suspicion from onlookers."

"That's one thing that I quite dislike about you, Frastos." Briac frowned.  "You always take such a straight, dim view of everything, almost to the point of being completely drab.  Lighten up!  Life has color."

"So now you're an artist as well."  Frastos' mockery ended the exchange on a sour note.

 

                                                                                   ~

 

(END OF SECTION 24)